Chaos Theory
by Yugoslavia
Summary: Serena and Clemont are becoming something more than friends, but a reoccurring scenario involving Clemont playing a game with his friends keeps getting in the way. When Serena attempts to help Clemont gets the free time they so desperately desire she ends up getting more than she bargained for. Contains Geekchicshipping. A gift for Nascar221.
1. Chapter 1

Chirping, tweeting Fletchling flew through the sky and circled high above the treetops, seeking their perches in the glorious green treetops of the Kalos forest beneath. The sun shone bright on the grassy field and the clearing that lay beyond the forest edge, making the landscape of the simple homestead glow radiantly. It was morning, the sun heading to its high point high above the clouds and in the middle of the bright blue sky.

Inside the home, Serena stood in front of a mirror. Fresh from a shower, her hair hanging down in dark gold lengths and a pure white bathrobe surrounding her body, she held out two outfits on two hangers, holding one over her figure to visualize herself in it, contemplating which would look best.

"Which one do you think, Pancham?" she asked.

But all Serena heard was a huge yawn from where Pancham was by her side. She looked past herself in the mirror, yanking away the dress she held aloft on the coat-hanger in her hand to look past her side to where Pancham had nearly passed out on top of the closed hamper lid and against the tall post of the bed-frame. Potbelly sticking out above the sprawled-out and stumpy legs in front of him, melon-shaped head nearly rolling off his shoulder as he came to the edge of sleeping, it didn't take more than a few seconds for Pancham to suddenly slip into sleeping and slump flat against the hamper top—and Serena to let out an annoyed huff.

If Serena wasn't so concentrated on the task at hand she might have noticed how annoyed she was. It wasn't Pancham who had set Serena off—she just couldn't figure out what to wear. Normally it wasn't that hard of a decision for her to make, but this morning it was all she could focus on.

Whether or not Pancham was awake, she wasn't going to let a silly thing like sleep from keeping her from making her decision. She would just have to voice her decisions aloud—it was one of the best ways she had of thinking through a decision.

"Well, what do you think…?" Serena asked, out loud, knowing that no one was really listening. Testing all that she could hear around her with just a simple question made her more comfortable with it, making her relax and go through the process in her head.

The first one was a simple blue blouse and a dark skirt beneath, meant to be paired with some dark stockings she had in mind that would pair even better with a pair of tall, black leather boots. She would wear a black cardigan over it, and she had even toyed with the idea of pulling her hair back into a bun, or even wearing some glasses with it. It was what she called 'the professor'—not that she would ever call it that out loud—just because it made her look smart, mature, but still cute. She would button the blouse up to the top button, making the collar of it close and high around her neck.

"This one?" she asked—again, out loud. "Or…"

The other was a pale-yellow flannel shirt, a red grid patten over the surface of it. The sleeves had been rolled up to above where her elbows would go, and paired nicely with a short-sleeved leather jacket. Down beneath she would wear brown short-shorts and a pair of dark brown cowgirl boots—that incidentally matched the jacket—and white tanktop that would act as camisole to the open flannel shirt. She held it over her front, raising her head as she looked at it, silently debating. It didn't have a name, unfortunately.

"Number one works. A little less flashy, if you know what I mean."

Someone had spoken—but it wasn't Serena.

Serena shrieked and promptly dropped the two outfits, letting them pile over her feet. The split second she spent trying to recover from the sudden shock came immediately with the loud thump of Pancham hitting the floor, Serena's freak-out making him topple over and slam into the floor. It made Serena flinch—even less so than the sound of the voice behind her—but she did her best to reel it in. All she did was look back behind her through the reflection of the mirror and towards where someone was standing right behind her.

Standing smug and smiling like it was her job, Bonnie was in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her eyes were smirking, tracing Serena's uncomfortable body like lasers.

"You know some of us still need to shower—that is, if you haven't used up _all_ the hot water in Kalos…" said Bonnie. She wore a thick, fluffy, lavender-colored robe that hugged her body close, her folded arms buried in the sleeves, her spindly, skinny legs showing that the robe was about a year and half a puberty cycle too old.

Immediately Serena was working on excuses. Her mouth hung open as she stammered, like her mouth was ready to speak before her brain was. She was fighting her cheeks from turning that shade of pink that would really, royally let anyone watching her know that she was in trouble. For Serena, however, she hadn't realized she was already in Bonnie's trap.

"Serena… What's taking so long?" Bonnie grinned from ear to ear "Is there maybe _a boy_ around you're trying to impress?"

" _Get out!_ "

* * *

Serena had gone against Bonnie's 'advice', and instead opted to wear the yellow flannel and jeans. The outfit still didn't have a name, but Serena had called it 'the one Bonnie didn't like' in her head a dozen times.

She had descended the stairs, bringing herself to the end of the carpeted steps before she stepped lightly onto the hardwood floors of the main floor. She held her boots by her side, the ends pinched between her fingers, as she used the thin white ankle socks she wore like a tool to help her creep onto the main floor silently, sure not to tip someone off that she had arrived. She wasn't on-edge as she liked to think (or at least tell herself when her thoughts weren't aligning that way), she wasn't scared of the prospect of bumping into someone in particular she didn't want to meet, or avoiding anything at all for that matter.

Crossing into the kitchen had gone smoothly as Serena walked in, no interruptions thus far. As far as she could tell there was no one down there in the corner kitchen that took up the alcove at the end of the living room, which meant she could get about the business of the morning uninterrupted: getting herself breakfast.

As soon as Serena opened the fridge, Bonnie suddenly poked their head out of the fridge.

"So," Bonnie asked, slyly, exactly like she had naturally snuck up behind Serena and not just poked her head out of a fridge, "want to tell me about this 'stud' of yours?"

Serena screamed, stumbling back and landing against the center island counter. It was the last thing on earth she expected, someone hiding in the fridge.

"B-Bonnie?!" Serena's face had gone white, she looked like she was about to have a heart attack. The socks Serena had used to sneak in now threatened to make her lose her grip on the thin linoleum floors and topple, her foot sliding out from underneath her just slightly before she caught herself, making her slouch against the island counter.

"Are you getting milk or something?" asked Bonnie. She had craned her head out, but for all Serena could tell she was practically in the fetal position on the main shelf, right beside the milk. Her arms reached above her, wedging her shoulders out from beneath the shelf, her legs extending out and reaching for the floor awkwardly. Right as she was pulling herself out, leaning out of the opening and stepping on the floor, she reached back for the jug of milk and handed it to Serena.

Taking the milk from Bonnie's grasp was enough to bring Serena back to reality—slowly—and bring herself standing upright. She couldn't help herself from looking at Bonnie as she finished shutting the fridge door behind her.

It had been only a year since Serena had seen Bonnie, and yet she had transformed radically. Though Bonnie had always been skinny she had seemed much stouter when she was shorter, and now that she was tall she looked bone-thin and looked more like a lanky rag-doll teenager than the Bonnie she knew. Even with her hair hanging down wet and seemingly shrunk down to curly, twisted hairs, her hair had grown much longer—by choice, as she no longer tied her hair into the tiny, cute bun it always was in. The freckles speckling her cheeks had become more pronounced, and the little tell-tale signs of acne had appeared on her chin. Despite her more independent personality becoming pronounced she was still dressed fairly formally, wearing a simple, brown button-up and a dark skirt, Mary-Jane's and tall socks, looking an awful lot like she was getting ready for Sunday school.

"You know you tend to overreact sometimes?" Bonnie asked casually. She had snuck out a glass bottle of cola, twisting off the metal cap with a quick, hard turn. She set the bottle on the other end of the island, next to where her hair band, her brush and her little black hair clips were.

"B-Bonnie! It's not nice to scare people! You almost made my… made my heart explode!" Serena protested. Even before she had tried looking angry her face had turned bright red, her lips trembling as she stood straight and looked over at Bonnie.

This only made Bonnie laugh—to Serena's total, utter annoyance —as she climbed up onto the counter beside Serena and sat herself on the edge, snatching her glass bottle and her brush. She swung her legs out in front of Serena, playfully, pulling her hair and brushing it back.

"Well, you better get used to it… It's going to be happening a _lot_ more if you end up _marrying_ Clemont…"

This made Serena snap. The veins in her forehead nearly popped beneath the skin, so much red flooding to her face it was like she had awakened a monster. She whipped her head around to turn on Bonnie, ready to unleash a tirade—which she tried to.

" _Bonnie!_ " Serena could only make it so far, even trying to fight Bonnie's casual interruption.

"You know, if the two of you are dating, that's sort of like getting 'pretend married', right? Sort of like you're halfway there? _Well_ , that means you get me too, right? I'm part of any deal where you get Clemont, _forever…_."

" _We're not getting married!_ "

"Oh, not _yet_ , but that's just how things start, _slowly…_ " Bonnie was trying her hardest not to snicker. Toying with Serena was just way, way too easy, and the grin on her face was enough to show just how much she was enjoying it. She batted her eyelashes with practice, her hands coyly folding one over the other beneath her chin.

All of the breakers were firing in Serena's head. Her annoyance was overwhelming, it had consumed her whole being and overtook her emotions. She was just standing there, outside the fridge, holding the carton of milk Bonnie had handed her, facing Bonnie. She could hardly look at her, even facing her, even as Bonnie was leering at her inches away from her face. Even for as much as Bonnie was taunting her, somehow it had started the wheels turning in her head.

Just outside the kitchen, both Serena and Bonnie heard a door open. Both of them immediately went silent, ending their argument short as they raised their heads and looked over to the hall beyond the living room where they had heard the sound come from. They heard footsteps, too, coming up creaky stairs out of the basement beneath them.

They both knew who it was. Serena, who had grown tense with silence, suddenly felt something squeezing her side, prodding at her. Bonnie had decided to take advantage, seemingly unable to spend a single second not trying to make Serena squirm, digging her fingers into Serena's ticklish side to get some kind of response. Before Bonnie could take further advantage she felt a hand grasping the collar of her shirt, hoisting her up with a strength she didn't expect, and immediately pinning her to the wall.

Serena, holding Bonnie by her fist, leaned in close to make sure Bonnie was looking her in the eye—Serena definitely was.

"Listen," Serena said, keeping her voice low. Even with as calm as her tone of voice was she sounded incredibly threatening. "I've been looking forward to spending some time with Clemont, and I will _not_ let you screw this up… So play nice, or… or you'll be entering a—a _world of hurt…_ "

Bonnie was surprised, but she was trying to remember that she still had the upper-hand in the conversation—at least telling herself that. Still, despite how real and genuine the threat seemed, a smile slowly crept across her face like she was about to burst out laughing.

"Oh, Serena… You really have no idea how much trouble you're in for, do you? I'm gonna be the _least_ of your worries…"


	2. Chapter 2

When Clemont entered the kitchen, he wouldn't have had a clue that something had gone down only moments earlier. Everything was casual, calm, and perfectly normal for a breakfast scene in a kitchen.

"Hey Serena, it's good to see you this morning!" said Clemont, beaming, his smile always seeming slight and never overzealous. If anything, he seemed unusually excited for his shy personality, giving as much of a grin as he had ever given.

Serena had been facing a counter when she turned to see Clemont. She was acting like him entering the kitchen wasn't anything she had anticipated or freaked out about seeing coming ahead. In her hands she had been slowly churning a bowl of fresh oatmeal, turning the steaming water through the oats she had poured in, the brown sugar she had sprinkled across the top disappearing in the turning mix. She couldn't help but let her polite smile turn into a full-bore grin, toothy and giddy, excited to see him. Even though she had just seen him the night before when he had come to pick her up at the airport, it was like she was seeing him for the first time—a time that wasn't behind a computer screen in one of their many late-night chats.

"I-It's good to see her too!" Feeling just a little bit of heat coming to her cheeks made her completely blush, lighting up as soon as he saw her.

"Good morning, dear brother!" Bonnie's smile was completely rehearsed, complete with a little head-tilt and batting her eyelashes. She had left alone the box of cereal and the puzzle on the back like it was some drab newspaper article she would have been reading—instead letting it take Dedenne's attention, who had somehow, almost magically appeared on the tabletop of the island counter that took up the middle of the kitchen.

"Good—Good morning, Bonnie! It's, uh, nice to see you…?" Clemont had no idea what to make of her sister's newfound manners, and he was too distracted by the sight of Serena to really pay any attention to it.

"Darling brother, every day with you is a brand new delight…" Slowly, Bonnie's smile was turning vicious, and as she turned to look over at Serena she looked like she was baring a row of Sharpedo teeth in place of her own.

Serena had caught a sideways glance of Bonnie, but it didn't matter. Now that Clemont was right in front of her it was like everything was magically okay, and like her soul had reached some magical nirvana within the span of seconds. Her chest heaved with a full and happy sigh like she was about to break into some Shakespearian sonnet, full of some romantic secret she was bursting to convey.

The two of them rushed to meet in the middle of the island, facing each other on either side of the counter. Serena's hands neatly folded over the counter-top, resting like she was relaxing and like her heart wasn't about to pound out of the center of her chest. Clemont, on the other hand, stood with his hands by his side, not sure what to do with them but unable to keep his eyes off of Serena for a second—even he was starting to blush, his face starting to steam up a bit.

"W-What did you want to do today…?" Serena smiled, her eyes as wide as headlights.

"Well… I did have something in mind… Small event I planned this morning and afternoon… I was thinking I could show you what we're doing…? I… I have it all set up in the basement…"

Serena made a noise. It wasn't quite coherent, anything that could be made sense of or translated into language, but it was very, very excited, and very accidental. Serena couldn't make sense of why it was she was excited for some private time with Clemont—something likely biological that switched on in her brain in that instant, and it definitely wasn't _that_. Still, the slightest inkling that it could be, possibly even be something related to _that_ felt so exciting and dangerous. But even if it wasn't _that_ , it was most definitely the chance to spend some much needed time with Clemont and _only_ Clemont—the very thing she had been looking forward to ever since she had heard she was coming back to Kalos.

"L-Let's go!" Serena squealed.

"Sure! We could… we could have breakfast down there!" Clemont said, nearly squealing himself—his voice definitely cracked.

It was thought, to Serena, so romantic and indicative of life together as a dating couple that it made her brain giddy. She had just about forgotten her composure before it came flooding back to her in an instant, flashing in her mind as she suddenly remembered, making her look like she had forgotten where she was.

"Let's go!" she repeated, seeing before she knew it that Clemont had disappeared into the living room and back into the hall, heading toward the basement door.

Serena had gone that way too, heading to the end of the island counter, cradling her bowl of oatmeal as she walked. The tall box of cereal that sat at the end of the counter—and occupied Dedenne's full attention with every effort he made to hop up and reach the top flap of the box—was snatched up by Serena as she passed by. She walked like she was hypnotized, trying to convince herself this wasn't really a dream.

Before she could leave the threshold of the kitchen, the invisible division between the kitchen corner space and the living room floor, something yanked at Serena's arm. It pulled her back around to face Bonnie, where she sat at one of the high-top stools, facing her bowl of cereal and milk.

It was strange enough for Bonnie to see someone falling for her brother, let alone her brother falling for someone as nice and sensible as Serena, but it was incredibly strange to see Serena in the trance she was in, walking without hardly blinking as she made her way into the living room. Even as Serena walked around back into the kitchen to see Bonnie, see where she was dragging her attention, it hadn't snapped her out of it.

"Serena—" Bonnie hissed, keeping out of earshot of Clemont—even though he was practically in the basement already. "I'm not kidding. Thicker than _Ash_."

Without hesitation, still in her trance, Serena took the back of Bonnie head in her hand and dunked her face-first straight into the bowl of cereal in front of her. All of Bonnie's protests and shrieks came out as sputters of milk and waterlogged cereal chunks over the edge of the bowl as she pounded her fists on the counter and struggled to get out. Leaving her to sort herself out, Serena walked away, hurrying to the hall with the basement door like a princess to a storybook kingdom.

When Bonnie pulled her head out, gasping desperately for air out of everything she had been through, she blindly reached for a napkin, swinging her arms and sending Dedenne toppling over the edge.

"Oh _my god!_ " Bonnie shouted, eyes shut, sputtering milk.

* * *

"What exactly is this surprise of yours…?"

Serena's trance ended midway down the stairs. Her focus had to be sharp, moving down those narrow stair steps and into the basement. The lowered slant of ceiling was inches from Serena's forehead, even as she descended lower, and she could feel the heat of the lone recessed light in the ceiling prickling against her scalp. She looked down past where she held the box of cereal she had snagged and her own bowl of oatmeal, making sure not to lose her step.

"You have to come down and see it yourself! I laid it all out for you." Clemont's voice sounded far away, muffled by the walls of the basement and shelves of crap set in-between them. He sounded like he was still pulling stuff out, moving things around and getting set up. Serena distinctly heard the sounds of folding chairs coming open and getting set up on the cold concrete floors, metal parts clacking and getting dragged around.

The stairs ended in a small landing, then turned around into another, much shorter set, leading down to the ground. An old rug had been laid out in the middle of the bare floor, and though Clemont could have bothered less with lighting with as much blue sky as what was coming in from the nearby, surrounding windows set near the tops of where the walls met the bare ceiling, an old chandelier with stained glass and the distinctive old brass work of an old restaurant had been hung over the middle of the room. The light was directly on a table in the middle—a nice, wide table with dark, marbled wood. A large, dramatically black cloth had been laid over the top of it, covering the contents of which were making incoherent lumps and shapes through the cloth. Just behind the table, standing, waiting for Serena to come into full view of the light and to really be able to see what he set up when she pulled the cloth, was waiting to reveal it.

It really was a surprise, already, without Clemont removing the cloth covering it. Whatever it was, Clemont had laid out a second table—a smaller, flimsier card table—in the corner, for a purpose Serena could only guess was so that they could have breakfast _not_ at this special table. But… what could it be? Serena couldn't possibly imagine. Her eyes were gaping, searching around the table like it was some mystical artifact she'd never thought she'd see. She paced around it, slowly, walking and courting it like it was the biggest dessert cake she'd ever laid her eyes on. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with her hands, and she reached up to cover her lips as she looked, looking at it like it was the biggest gift she'd received at Christmas, ever.

"W-What is it?" Serena finally asked, looking up and across at Clemont. She couldn't keep her eyes off it for much longer, immediately looking back at it.

Clemont couldn't contain his smile. He reached down for the corner of the cloth, making sure he had a good grip on it.

"You know Serena… The last few times, we had talked about doing something special together, just you and I? I've been designing it, just so that you and I could enjoy it…"

Serena felt her heart stop for a second. As clumsy and nerdy as what he was saying was, it was one of the most heartfelt things Serena had heard him say—maybe any guy say.

No one had ever _designed_ something for her. That word carried so much weight, it must've meant it had to be good. Even if it wasn't good, it was personal, and that made it _perfect_. It meant it was something that understood her and the person she was, it meant Clemont understood the kind of person she was, and most importantly it represented what Clemont thought of their relationship: where it was going, what it should be and what it would be. A perfect metaphor for their relationship as it was. Serena already knew she wanted to remember this for the rest of her life.

Then, Clemont readied his grip, let his arms pull forward to get the most length of cloth he could manage, pulled back on the cloth, and—


	3. Chapter 3

—revealed the table-top.

It was completely, totally covered, in just _stuff_. Serena couldn't make sense of it, it was like she was looking at something an alien from two galaxies away had put together.

In the middle of the table, Clemont had taped down a large game-board—only it wasn't just any game-board, it was one Clemont had made himself. It was a large section of poster paper, sliced to be perfectly square from all-sides, and taped down so that it wouldn't be removed from the table-top until the game was done. In pencil, Clemont had drawn up what looked like a world map, complete with mountains, forests, villages, lakes, valleys, canyons, and a large ocean to the east. It wasn't Kalos, and when Serena looked too closely she would quickly realize it wasn't a real map—all of the landmarks were too perfectly crammed together, in too perfect proximity to be anything real. The landmarks and specific areas—usually special buildings, or areas of town, or caves or dungeons—had numbers on them, like they corresponded to some other material.

Sure enough, there were other, smaller maps, drawn on sheets Clemont had clearly printed off of some website, with a large graph paper section in the middle and little lined descriptions at the bottom. They had names like 'Dungeon 3F' and 'Tavern 1B' on them, and more numbers in the grids that were clearly maps.

Serena saw shoddily-done clay figurines, and twenty-sided die, and notecards with attacks and spells written on them. Of the several chairs placed all around the round table, each of them had a sheet in front of them with a low-res picture or a halfway-decent drawing in the picture box, a name and a bio—character sheets, Serena had heard Clemont call them in one chat.

All of the things Serena saw amounted to one, resounding thought in her brain:

 _Oh no._

"Dungeons and Dragons!" Clemont said, proclaiming, looking for all the world like he was proud of himself—for some reason Serena couldn't discern. Not that she was looking at him, but she could picture the rest from just his voice.

Serena swallowed. She looked like she was about to cry, staring at the table-top—at her surprise afternoon with Clemont.

Her surprise afternoon that had just been ruined.

* * *

"I made the whole campaign from scratch, too! I think it's really something, it's something special I think will really just _speak_ to you…"

Serena heard every word that Clemont had said, and though it was clear to her what he was saying when she repeated it back to herself silently in her head, it was far more jumbled up and filled with cereal.

Never one to have impressive eating manners, Clemont was sitting at his end of the folding card-table that had been temporarily set at the far corner of the room, in his own chair—not like one of the thin and flimsy folding ones Serena had been sat in on her side, his 'dungeon-master' chair, an old desk chair with wood accents and embossed brass studs holding down the leather upholstery of the back and the seat. The chair had impressive range, creaking back and holding Clemont at a near-perfect 45 degree angle, his feet planted on a pile of nearby boxes with his legs keeping him back, as he cradled a the tall box of cereal Serena had pulled from the upstairs. Enough crumbs had piled into the folds of his pale-blue jumper to assure Serena he was getting enough to eat—if it had ever been a concern of hers with Clemont.

"Well, remember how I was telling you about my last campaign?" Clemont asked, going on like Serena was interested in what he was saying. "And you were telling me how much it reminded me of those fantasy novels you like to read? Well, I decided to base it on that! And I created something that sort of puts you in the driver seat of a character who's sorta like those books—I, well, did a lot of reading in anticipation of putting this together… uh, 'research', you could say."

Serena couldn't believe Clemont was _still_ eating, and _still_ talking. Even if he wasn't eating, she wouldn't be any more surprised, or annoyed.

The bowl of oatmeal Serena had made for herself earlier was completely empty, the smooth white walls of the bowl practically licked clean. Serena hadn't wasted a second eating from it, as soon as they had sat down at the card-table getting to work on it. It was a healthy distraction from everything they were doing and had been talking about, giving something to put Serena's mind at ease when she was just listening and realizing how easily she had stepped into this trap of Clemont's devising. She had convinced herself that the best route out of this situation was a diplomatic solution, and she just needed time to think her way through it, and there was no better way through it than eating.

Serena still had to remind herself that this wasn't a really a 'trap'. 'Trap' was a harsh word and implied malice on Clemont's part, and though it was definitely feeling _like_ a trap it really wasn't at all. This, whatever it was—Serena had heard so much of what Clemont was saying and still hadn't really put together in her head what it was they would be doing if she really agreed to play this game—was made out of some affection for her.

Maybe this _was_ the right thing.

"—I thought that including angry, antagonistic fairies like the story has would be interesting. _But_ , what would be more interesting? _Orcs!_ "

In the middle of his seemingly endless rant, Clemont finally looked up from the dogeared notebook he had been carrying around—a notebook he had transformed into his own guide for how to play his own game, filled with new pages and printed things, sticky notes and fold-out pages from old guides—and looked up at Serena. Across the table where she sat, she was looking down at her bowl, and Clemont could tell she wasn't really looking at the bottom of the bowl—not because he knew it wasn't interesting, it was most definitely because he knew the exact look she was giving him; it was the look he knew she was giving when he was doing something that really, really bored her. This early in their relationship he had figured out all the little signs: her eyes weren't as wide and attentive as they were when someone was giving out interesting information, her back wasn't wilting down and making her hunch over. This was clear and present disinterest, and yet she was smiling.

"Serena…?" Clemont asked, trying Serena. His gaze was still beneath his glasses, and he had no idea what to do with his face. He closed his notebook slowly, not necessarily caring as much about his place in the book, setting it on the table and placing his hand over it like he might go back to it.

When Serena looked back up at Clemont, she looked confused, but she still smiled nonetheless. It was unsettling to Clemont, but she seemed more calm that he had ever seen her being.

Reaching across the table, to where Clemont had placed his hand over the top of the notebook, Serena reached and rested her hand over his. Her thumb grazed his knuckle, doing all the touchy-feely things couples did with their hands, rubbing and sighing. This only served to confuse Clemont more, who looked down at where their hands met and overlapped, even slowly turning his hand over to meet palm-to-palm with Serena. Even more unsettling, Serena was still staring at him, something he hadn't noticed until he had gone to look back up at her. She was still staring at him with that dreamy, bored look, and still smiling.

"You are really handsome, you know that…?" asked Serena, her voice extra smooth and settling. It was the best she had come up with in the few seconds since she had made it her mission to get out of this in the nicest way possible.

"Serena, is something wrong?" Clemont immediately asked, shrinking back in his chair. It all really was inexplicable what was happening, and yet, somehow, it was making Clemont blush harder than he had had the chance to that day.

Serena smiled, wistfully, like she was just casually dreaming something up to say. She shook her hair playfully from her face, freeing up a small tangled strand that had stuck to her brow, making sure Clemont could see all of her face and the drama that was playing across it. She was making her eyes smile as much as she could, making them full of hope and desire.

"I was just thinking…" Where she was tracing a circle on the tabletop with her finger, closest to her side, she scooted it across the tabletop toward Clemont. She brushed aside piled, single pages that had been pulled out and left as references for him to gaze over as he made his pitch, scooting them aside without a single thought of whether or not they were organized in any particular fashion. Her finger stood up and casually walked towards him, finding where he had left his other, free hand against the table surface and across his fingers. She rested her hands atop his until he turned them, now giving her both of his hands.

"What were you thinking, Serena…?" asked Clemont. He had moved past the feeling of wondering what exactly this was all about, asking the question he could feel Serena was dangling in front of him.

"I was thinking… We should do something else…"

"Really...?"

"Literally, anything but this."


End file.
